


coughing up camellia petals

by IHaveBeenSummoned



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Duke angst, F/F, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, I don't like how I started the style of this fic off but I'm stuck with it now, I'm still working on the tags, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, My First Fanfic, Sad, Self-Harm, Sexuality Crisis, Tags Are Hard, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHaveBeenSummoned/pseuds/IHaveBeenSummoned
Summary: 12 red camellia petals floated before Heather Duke in the toilet bowl. It was hard for her to tell, but there also appeared to be a trace of blood in the water.“Grow up Heather, bulimia is so ’87,” called Chandler from outside.Duke spat out another petal.“Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather,” McNamara said. Bless her pathetic little heart. There was no doctor in the world who could help Duke now.I guess there’s always surgery…“Yeah, Heather, maybe I should.”Essentially it's heathers retold except heather duke has hanahaki disease for heather chandler. This has always been a raging head cannon of mine, and I finally decided to write a fic about it.





	1. Heather, Heather, Heather and someone

_It’s happening again. Oh god, oh god, oh god..._

12 red camellia petals floated before Heather Duke in the toilet bowl. It was hard for her to tell, but there also appeared to be a trace of blood in the water.

“Grow up Heather, bulimia is so ’87,” called Chandler from outside.

Duke spat out another petal.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather,” McNamara said. Bless her pathetic little heart. There was no doctor in the world who could help Duke now. 

_I guess there’s always surgery…_

“Yeah, Heather, maybe I should.”

There was a clatter as Chandler threw her makeup back into it’s bag. There was another sound too; the tap-tap-tap of an unfamiliar pair of shoes walking into an empty stall.

_I wonder who that is…_

Heather once again felt the familiar pain in her chest. She was going to throw up again. Soon.

Senior year was destined to be hell, right from the get-go. After a summer vacation spent road-tripping with the Heathers and holidaying with her relatives in Korea, anyone could understand why Duke was upset to be back at school.

There was also another reason. Another, fairly monumental reason. Because Heather Duke had a secret.

Duke had always known there was something different about the way she looked at Heather Chandler; even though it took her years to place what it was. It was as if she emitted a magnetic force that Duke couldn’t help but be drawn towards. 

At first it was only reasonable to assume that it was Chandler’s bright, bubbly personality. It seemed impossible for anybody not to love the pretty, charismatic tween that Duke befriended on the first day of middle school. Yet even as Chandler’s playful, childlike charm melted away to reveal the ruthlessly powerful wrath of a demon queen, Duke couldn’t help but remain in Chandler’s thrall.

It was only during the summer, sitting in the sweaty back seats of Kurt’s third-hand BMW on the way to an out-of-town festival, did Duke realise the truth behind why she liked chandler so much. Squished between Heather C. and Ram as the Ohio landscape wizzed past, it seemed impossible not to notice the curve of chandler’s lips, the warmth and softness of her body as it pressed against duke’s own-

The door to the bathroom slammed open.

“Ah, heather and heather,” a familiar voice scoffed.

_Mrs Fleming._

Heather tried, and failed, to quell her urge to vomit.


	2. Let's make her beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heathers squad goes shopping and Duke gets a case of the hanahakis. Be prepared for some angst next time I update.

Heather Duke had not planned on spending her Monday afternoon clothes shopping at the tri-county mall, but Chandler had insisted.

“We can’t have Veronica walking around looking like scrap heap,” she had said. “And anyway, it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

Duke reluctantly agreed, even though she technically had other plans for the evening. It wasn’t like she could say no to Chandler, though, with her mint-green eyes and addictive, addictive smile. It wasn’t like she could tell Chandler she had plans to go to conversion therapy at the local church.

Right?

“I feel so fricking badass” Veronica smiled, stepping out of the change room. With her blue knee-high socks, blazer, white blouse and chequered mini-skirt, she really looked like one of the heathers.

Chandler nodded in approval. For some reason, this made Duke scowl.

_Shit. McNamara definitely saw that. say something, say something say something-_

“For god’s sake, fix your collar,” groaned Duke, grasping for the most evident imperfection to criticise. ”And- uh-”

She felt a familiar pain simmering in the depths of her lungs.

_Not now… please, please, please not now_

A tickling feeling was beginning to rise up Duke’s throat, like laughter’s evil twin.

_You have to do something_

“G-guys,” she stammered, trying desperately not to let her panic show. “I’m just- I just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll- I can find you later.”

And then Duke ran.

_____

It wasn’t long before the retching coughs of hanahaki turned to violent sobs. Alone, Heather’s mind bore weakness to the torment of her mind that was otherwise stamped down by the world around her. 

_You’re fucking dying. You’re in love with another fucking woman and it’s killing you. Why can’t you just get over it? Why can’t you be normal? What the fuck is wrong with you? All this is your fault-_

Something in the corner of Duke’s eye coughs her attention; something that made her freeze.

From underneath the stall door, she could see a pair of yellow heels.

“Duke, is that you in there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to get into the flow of the fic now. I've got the next few chapters plotted out, so hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly.
> 
> Also, I'm having a few issues with the italics, so sorry if they don't show up for you and you have to guess what bits are happening in duke's head. If this keeps being a problem I will find a different way to portray that.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you guys think, and if you have any suggestions. Hearing what people have to say really keeps me motivated while writing.


	3. Heather in the bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather sits in the bathroom to angst and has lots of dramatic flashbacks.
> 
> TW: self-harm

**August, 1989**

Duke had been battling a cough all week. It was more annoying than anything else; niggling away in the back of her throat, jumping out whenever most inconvenient. It also seemed hell-bent on persisting through all the cough medicines Duke threw at it, getting more and more violent with each passing day. As the end of summer vacation drew nearer and nearer, mystery cough in her lungs grew almost as excruciating as it was inexplicable.

Inexplicable, at least, until she coughed up her first petal.  
________

Heather didn’t expect herself to fall apart so quickly.

_You’re fucking dying. You’re in love with another fucking woman and it’s killing you .Why can’t you just get over it? Why can’t you be normal? What the fuck is wrong with you? All this is your fault-_

“Heather, is that you in there? Are you okay?”

McNamara’s gentle voice echoed through the stuffy, silent air of the department store restrooms. Not very loud; but loud enough to disturb the blanket of silence Duke kept wrapped around her. A presence that was, at least, one other than her own.

“I’m fine.” Duke hissed, trying hard to stifle her sobbing. 

_Now you’ve made her worry. Asshole._

_...but you’re not fine, are you?_

The thing was, nothing that Duke had learned in school could have prepared her for the emotional trauma of hanahaki. The fear seemed to paralyse her every time the flowers made an appearance, and the constant worrying of will _today be the day I die?_ threatened to consume her. And it wasn’t like she had a friend to confide in or a shoulder to cry on; she couldn’t let anyone see the darkness that lurked behind her mask of popularity. Duke was going it alone, for the better or for worse.  
Or at least, that was what she thought.

“Heather, I swear to god, open the damn door!”

Duke was vaguely aware of McNamara’s presence outside the bathroom door. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Lost in though, the only indication of how long had passed was the ever-increasing increments of worry in McNamara’s voice.

_Can’t she just go away?_

“Are you going to open this door or do you want me to jimmy the lock?”

_Let her in_  
_Don’t you dare_  
_Fuck you_  
_Fuck everything_  
_Just say n-_

Duke stood up. 

_________

It was dark outside. Heather really should have been asleep, but the thoughts in her head refused to allow her a moment’s rest. They danced wildly in the spaces between pain and love and fear. If she tried hard enough, Duke could almost feel the roots of the camellia worming their way deeper and deeper into her depths of her lungs.  
She wondered what it felt like to die.

There was just too much to worry about, too much to do. Heartsickness and anxiety and the looming start of senior year seemed to be pressing down on Heather from all angles. The tension felt like a strange electricity, humming away beneath Duke’s skin, begging to be used up. She felt a strong urge to hit something, or to tear her hair out, or to scream and scream and scream until her voice was raw. Most of all, she wanted a moment of peace.

Maybe that was why Heather snuck into the darkened study, looking for her mother’s sewing box.  
Maybe that was why, with embroidery scissors in pocket, Heather tiptoed into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.  
Maybe that was why the shiny blade went tearing through the delicate skin of Heather’s forearm, strike after strike after strike.  
Maybe that was why on September the first, despite the unusual warmth of the autumn weather, Heather kept her blazer on the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I said about updating more regularly? That was a big fat lie. My plan for the plot had to go out the window because I cover so little ground in each chapter. I'll try to speed up the pace a bit more, but I make no promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it just me who has this theory about Heather Duke? I think it really adds an extra dimension to her character and explains a lot of her actions.
> 
> Do you guys want to see the next chapter or should I just leave it? I honestly don't care


End file.
